Darkened Days
by crgould66
Summary: The sudden and drastic changes in his brother, Ben, worries the hell out of Hal Mason. With his father being held captive by the Espheni, possibly dead, Hal struggles to deal with his own grief, let alone playing father replacement figure to his two younger brothers. Ben is a stranger to him. Matt cries himself to sleep every night. They struggle to survive. Ben and Hal centric.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I haven't given up the other story, just that my life is going to be crazily busy the next couple of weeks, and I won't have time to write longer chapters with a more complicated story line.

This is going to be just a series of thoughts and emotions that the Mason brothers experience during the three months their father is missing. It really doesn't have a plot, though time will unfold chronologically. It's mostly from Hal and Ben's POV and sometimes Matt.

This is going to be really open, if any of you have something you would like me to write in regard to the brothers then let me know and I'll try to write it. Each chapter will be contained within itself, exploring an emotion whether it's fear, anger, rage, concern, grief, remorse, shame and you get the gist.

Enjoy!

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 _ **Chapter One. Metamorphosis**_

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Ben is running as fast as he can. Racing through the forest, effortlessly moving through the trees as if they are not even there. Despite it being dark, a full moon offers much light. Not that Ben needs it. His vision has never been more heightened.

Captain Weaver's face appears before him, battered, tired and sad.

' _Ben … you're father … gone … spaceship … to save you. I tried to stop him. When they told him that you were not free of the harness process … Tom … your dad; he went with them.'_

 _Free! 'I'm not free?!" WHAT … DOES … THAT … MEAN! "What do they want with my DAD?!_

How dare they take his dad! Was not harnessing him, robbing him of his free will … was it not enough?! They are monsters!

He grips the dagger tightly in his hand as he spies the Skitter in the distance. A desire to kill overwhelms him. Ben launches himself at the six legged creature.

Taken completely unaware, the Skitter has no chance in responding. Such is Ben's rage that he descends with brutal ferocity. He just wants to kill it, kill all of them, for as long as he can, however long that takes.

Angry, hate filled tears blur his vision.

 _One day, he was just Ben. The geeky, book loving boy that hated any form of physical exercise. 'Pudgy', Hal used to tease. Not that he was ever overweight, just he had a chubby face, and his muscles were soft from inexertion. And because Hal was a jerk that liked to tease him. The only stress that existed in his life then was whether he got the top mark for maths in his year group. Because if Joey were to beat him … damn, that didn't even bear thinking about. Joey had the biggest ego. Nerds and geeks had egos just as much as the jocks sometimes, just their egos revolved around different things, like who had the highest mark._

Ben doesn't know that boy anymore. He stabs the dagger under the chin of the Skitter as hard as he can. Egos no longer matter. He can hear the crunch of bones, blood splatters down his hands and arms.

"You think," he chokes, "You can just do this to me!"

The Skitter falls to the ground, but Ben isn't done with it. He brings the dagger down on its head, piecing the skull.

"You think," he continues, bringing the dagger down again and again. "You can take everyone I love from me!"

Black Skitter blood splashes all over his face, but he doesn't care. He just wants to kill. All he knows in this moment is hate.

"Ben!" calls a distant, distorted voice. "Ben. Ben. Stop. Ben!"

The voice finally penetrates the rage of red hot fury surrounding him. Stopping, he looks up to see Hal. And not just Hal, but Captain Weaver, Jimmy, a group of second mass soldiers. Half a dozen torches are pointed at him.

He sees the horror on their faces as angry tears continue to roll down his cheeks. Some stand with mouths open in shock. Some avert their gazes as if he is some aberration of nature, not natural, not normal.

"What are you doing, son?" Captain Weaver speaks in a calm voice. "Just put down the knife. The Skitter is well and truly dead."

Hal slowly approaches him. A look of shock and confusion mirrored in his eyes. _Who are you? What have you become? Where is Ben, where is the nerdy brother I used to know?_

"Ben," Hal begins, his eyes shifting to the dead Skitter on the ground. "It's … just tell me you are okay?"

Drawing in deep ragged breaths, Ben nods. He feels much better now. It's all beginning to make sense. This is what he is destined to do. Kill.

"I'm okay."

Hal doesn't look convinced, neither does Captain Weaver.

"Hell, I'm impressed," Pope speaks up, emerging from the group of soldiers. "Give the Razorback kid a gun and let him come hunting Skitters with us."

"I didn't ask for your input," Captain Weaver returns.

"Right, excuse me, forgot he was a precious Mason kid," Pope mutters.

For the first time, Ben agrees with Pope. He's not precious. There is no place for kids in this world. He isn't a kid anymore.

"I want to fight."

Captain Weaver's worried gaze meets with his. "I know you're upset and angry, Ben. You have every right to be."

Ben clenches his hands tightly, the adrenalin still coursing through him. The spikes hum, as they do when he feels strong emotion, reminding him of his alienation from being human. They are changing him, turning him into something that he fears. It keeps him awake at nights.

If they did this to him, what are the Espheni going to do to his dad? This thought terrifies him more than the changes taking place to his body.

"I'm serious, Sir. I need to do something. I need a distraction."

Captain Weaver pats his shoulder, his expression is sympathetic. "We'll discuss it later. Now return back to base and clean yourself up."

He turns and addresses the soldiers. "Return to camp, get some sleep. We move out at first light."

* * *

Ben trudges back to the school, feeling numb. Which is a change. After Caption Weaver told him about his dad, all Ben has felt is rage. It's still there, simmering away beneath the surface.

Hearing someone fall in step behind him, Ben already knows that it is Hal.

"So, you want to play soldier," he speaks.

Ben hears the question in Hal's voice. _You, the kid that couldn't even bring himself to harm a fly._

"I hadn't seen that coming," Hal continues. "Or the way you so viciously killed that Skitter."

"I .. was angry. I don't want to talk about it," he replies, wishing Hal would just leave him alone.

"You moved so quickly, like you have this super speed and strength."

Would he just shut up! Ben ignores him.

"It's from the spikes, isn't it?"

Ben quickens his pace, Hal jogs to keep up. He shoots an angry glare at his brother.

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"I just want to help. I'm trying to understand here, Ben?"

He turns so suddenly, forcing Hal to step back.

"Don't!" he yells. "You could never understand!"

Hal holds up his hands, much like trying to settle a skittish horse.

"Okay. Okay. I don't understand what you're going through. But I can see you're scared, and especially now that dad is gone, and we don't know what is happening to him."

Hal rakes a trembling hand through his hair. "We need to look out for each other. Dad would want that."

Ben sees the raw naked emotion in Hal's eyes. He tears his gaze away, not wanting to feel, it hurt too much.

"Dad is gone," he quietly murmurs. "You are not him. You can't help me."

Hal falls silent. He looks like he wants to speak, but is holding back.

Ben's shoulders feel rigid, his whole body is tensed up. He looks down at his hands, covered in black blood. Childhood innocence, that's what he's now lost. Touching his face, it feels sticky. He fingers his hair, caked in black goo.

He feels tainted; dirty. He finds himself longing for a shower, wants to wash the filth off his body.

Turning abruptly, he begins to run back to the base.

This time Hal doesn't follow.

* * *

Ben rushes inside the school, down the corridor to the bathroom. People stop and stare at him. He ignores them. He's had plenty of practice at it. It used to bother him. Now it means nothing.

Locking the bathroom door behind him, Ben turns on the shower taps. He can't stop trembling. Struggling to strip himself of his clothes, he swears under his breath. He has to get clean. Now! Like right now.

Finally, he's free and steps under the cold water. Grabbing the soap, he scrubs every part of himself, every square inch in his haste to free his skin of contaminated Skitter blood. His fingers catch on the spikes. He feels the hardened skin, knows it's changing. He often saw the worried glances his dad and Anne sometimes exchanged when they didn't think he was looking. He always knew it was about him, what he might become.

Stepping out of the shower, Ben dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist. Approaching the mirror, he stares for a long, hard, silent moment at his own reflection.

He fingers his too shaggy hair. It makes him look young, a kid. The boy has to go. The world he once knew no longer exists. Spying electric hair clippers on the bench, Ben picks them up, flips the setting to a number four. Staring resolutely back at his reflection, he switches it on. Not like there will be any generated electricity once on the road, least not for minor things like charging hair clippers, he might as well do this now.

Ben doesn't blink as his hair falls to the ground in clumps. He knows this is the day everything changes.

It is time to fight, time to kill … time to become a soldier.

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 **A/N:** Would you like me to continue with this? If so send a review! I love feedback in any shape or form. As mentioned at the start, if you would like me to write a particular scene between the brothers let me know and I'll try to oblige.

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	2. Chapter 2

**.**

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 _ **Chapter Two. Desolation**_

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He doesn't know his brother. Right now he wishes he did. With dad gone he longs to share his fears with someone, even if the reality hasn't sunk in yet.

He's never felt so alone.

When his mom had died, his dad had been there to comfort him.

Then Ben went missing and it was the worse week ever.

He kept busy, riding bikes and being a scout. Always moving, don't think - just don't think about it. He had lived in blind hope that they would get Ben back and they had.

Just, he didn't expect him to be so different.

"Talk to me, son," spoke Captain Weaver.

Hal isn't one for expressing emotions, he's sporty and tough. Ben was the girl in the family.

Not anymore.

Now he's a stranger.

"I just wish my dad was here," he mutters. His dad is his lifeline, the voice of reason.

"I've lost both of my parents, Ben's losing the plot and Matt …" His voice breaks off there, he runs a hand through his hair, fighting back the tears. How the hell does he tell his kid brother what has happened to their dad … he doesn't even know where to start with that.

"What's there to say?"

His hand drops to his side. He doesn't want to talk right now, it hurt. He doesn't want to admit his fears, not to Captain Weaver. He's suppose to be a man now, not the frightened 17-year-old he sometimes secretly is. All he wants is his dad back and Ben to be normal again.

He has neither.

Captain Weaver's hand rests on his shoulder. Hal averts his gaze from the sympathy he clearly sees in his eyes.

"If I know one thing about your dad, son. He's a fighter."

Hal nods. He knows this, but it still doesn't reassure him.

"Now get some sleep."

* * *

Hal's glad to leave, longing for some solitude to process everything that has happened. A sudden exhaustion takes hold as he walks to the bedroom he's been sharing with his dad and two brothers.

Nothing feels right anymore. His dad is gone and Ben … just about bowls him over as he exits from the bathroom. Stopping, their eyes meet for a moment. Hal notices Ben's hair, he raises an eyebrow. Okay, so his younger brother has found the time to give himself a buzz cut. What is with that? Is there even any point in asking?

The eyes that stare back at him, he can no longer read. It unnerves and saddens him at the same time.

He used to tease Ben mercilessly before. His brother's feeble attempts to hit back generally ended up with him being wrestled to the ground. It was all in good fun, so he had told himself. Ben had his own way of hitting back, being the smart arse he was, always talking in a way that Hal often didn't understand. Showing off his straight 'A' grades in every subject. Sometimes he felt inferior. He would notice the way his dad would affectionately squeeze Ben's shoulder. Ben had inherited his intellect from him, and Hal knew this did please his dad.

But none of that matters now. There are no more schools, probably not even much of a future. Ben no longer brags about school grades.

He doesn't read books anymore either. As each day passes, he begins to become unrecognisable to Hal. Even more so with his recently shorn hair.

"I'm serious about the fighting part." Ben speaks, breaking the strained silence.

Hal doesn't doubt it, he can see the determination in his younger brother's eyes. It disturbs him.

"I don't know. You're only 14."

"15 next month," he shoots back. "Jimmy is only 13, he's allowed to fight."

What Ben says is true, but still … what would his dad say and do?

Dark shadows flicker in Ben's eyes. "It's because of these isn't it," he mutters, gesturing to the spikes on the back of his neck, now clearly visible without the hair to cover them. "You think I'm a freak too?"

Hal shakes his head. "No."

"But you don't trust me." It was more of a statement than a question.

Hal doesn't know how to answer, because Ben is right. He doesn't know if he trusts him anymore. It doesn't help that he's acting so out of character.

He doesn't miss the bitterness evident in Ben's eyes. And that's what's changing. His brother is becoming too bitter, too angry and who can blame him.

Hal hates seeing it.

"I'm trying to do what I think dad would want," he slowly returns.

"Dad's not here," Ben states for the second time that day. "And I'm not a kid anymore."

Hal watches him turn around and walk back to the room. Sighing, he follows. Once in the room, Ben moves to his cot that's now in the far corner. He lies down, pulling a blanket over himself. No words are spoken.

Hal sits heavily on his own cot, his eyes resting on the empty cot his dad sleeps on. His heart is heavy. Alone in the dark, he feels his loss more acutely than ever. Lying on his side, he pulls the blanket up and screws his eyes shut. The tears still leak out. Not that it matters, not like anyone can see.

* * *

In the cold light of the morning, Hal awakes to Matt's scared voice. "Where is dad?"

He abruptly sits up, blinking heavily to clear his vision. Hal's been dreading this morning, sleeping fitfully throughout the night. His eyes meet with Ben's. For once he sees the same concern reflected in his eyes. It offers some small comfort. There are dark rings under Ben's eyes. Hal briefly wonders if he slept at all.

"Matt," Ben begins, gesturing to him to sit down next to him on the cot.

Matt is beyond reasoning. He steps back, his eyes widening with fear. He then bolts out the room calling for their dad.

"Shit," Hal mutters.

Ben is already out the door, racing after Matt. Hal still swearing, follows him. Ben is fast, he hates to admit it. It's the spikes, they are changing him physically. It scares him, what his brother might become.

Ben used to be so uncoordinated. He was horrible at running. Always pulling out his puffer after just a few minutes. It used to bug Hal to no end.

" _Toughen up, Princess," he'd tease._

They fought a lot, just too different, but it was familiar. He remembered the time they had gone camping and Ben had had an asthma attack. He had lost his puffer. Hal had been terrified, so sure his brother was going to die as his parents drove to the nearest hospital.

It had been the worst hour he could remember. His mom tried to keep Ben calm as he struggled to breathe. Hal had never felt so powerless. He'd made a thousand promises on how much better he would treat his brother if only God would let him live. It was the same feeling he'd felt when the Skitters took Ben … when they had killed his mom … feeling useless. Couldn't save either his mom or Ben. Now - he no longer made promises to God.

People are shuffling along the corridors, carrying what little belongings they have, and he's lost his brother. Hal frantically searches all of the rooms till he hears and recognises Matt's voice.

Stopping near a doorway, the one that's set up as the medical centre, Hal peers into the room. Ben is with Matt. Crouching down to his level, hands resting on Matt's shoulders.

"He'll come back," Ben speaks, "he's smart, and he will find his way back to us. I know dad."

"You promise?"

Matt asks that a lot these days. The kid still clings onto hope. So does Hal, just right now it is a struggle. His eyes rest on his two younger brothers.

"I promise," Ben replies.

He is himself for a change, he always is around Matt. But then Matt still has that childhood innocence and Ben always did have a way with Matt. And Matt related better to him. By the time Matt had come along, Hal was eight years old. He had always let Ben deal with Matt, because he was younger and closer in age to Matt. He was too busy playing sports, too busy hanging out with his friends and then, once he turned 15, too busy with girls.

He didn't expect to end up parentless at just 17. Neither did he ever expect that his two younger brothers would become his responsibility.

Quite suddenly, he feels so much older. Like he's aged ten years in just three months. The life he had planned, is never going to happen. Tears burn at the back of his eyes. _'Suck it up, Hal,'_ he silently chides.

Sighing, he steps into the room. Ben looks up. A silent message is sent between the two of them. For now Matt is okay, Ben will see to that. At least that much hasn't changed.

Hal is thankful. He ruffles Matt's hair. "Let's go eat before we have to move out."

They are brothers. They will stick together despite their differences. They have too, if they stand any chance of surviving. Hal doesn't want to die, the thought secretly terrifies him. Not that he'd ever admit it.

He glances sideways at Ben as they walk to the dining hall. "Thanks for that."

Ben nods. "Just don't treat me like a kid anymore. I will fight alongside you."

Hal inwardly sighs, knowing he won't be able to stop Ben. He longs for the old days, to return to the life they once had.

Matt whining as mom attempts to comb the knots out of his hair. Ben's nose buried in a book as usual. Dad talking about some history war stuff, that he's become adept at tuning out. Every now and again, his mom glances his way and smiles at him. He feels loved and protected.

How he wishes it so, but the warm past image blurs before his eyes, only to be replaced with reality. People sitting at tables, looking tired and sad. No one knowing what will happen to them next, who will die and who will live.

At least he still has his brothers.

A lump lodges in his throat. _'Dad,'_ he inwardly murmurs. ' _You better find us.'_

He glances at Ben's stony expression, and somehow he gets the feeling his once happy-go-lucky brother will never smile again.

' _And dad … make it soon … please.'_

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 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved and appreciated, so please send one if you can. Unfortunately my holidays ended two weeks ago and as I'm a teacher, I basically don't have a life till the next lot of holidays come around! I will try to update as often as I can. I'm working on the next chapter for my other story as well, it might just take me a week or two.

Cheers!

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